


It's No Accident

by Theconsultingdetective



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1275037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theconsultingdetective/pseuds/Theconsultingdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story of luck, fate, and misfortune in wartime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's No Accident

         "It's no accident, you know," Sam had said, "that you're named after an angel." Gabriel had shrugged and toed the ground, trying to think of some clever connection for Sam's name, but finding none.  
"Thanks," he said. The happenstance of meeting at the bus station that night, after Gabriel pulled Sam out of moving traffic, was just that-happenstance. It was sheer luck that had bought them together, and sheer misfortune that tore them apart. 

          They blamed the letter for what happened. It opened with "Greetings from the President," and Gabriel's heart was already sinking by the time he was past the first word. He called Sam up that night and broke the news, trying to be casual and failing miserably. Sam remembered the conversation, word by word, and recited it to himself in his sleep that night. He'd just cracked a joke, about the woman who ran the diner down the block from her house ("And no wonder they're always out of pie, by the looks of her she eats all of it herself") and by the time their laughter died down, Gabriel cleared his throat and announced, "I got a letter today." Sam was only half paying attention at this point-he'd see him tomorrow, after all, so why get all wrapped up in one phone call?-and replied, "Yeah? From who?"  
"Well, from the president..." he began, hoping Sam'd catch on before he had to make the dreaded announcement.  
"Ooh," he said, phone tucked in between his ear and shoulder, hands plunged into soapy water. "What'd he say? Does he want to honour us? Make us couple of the year?" Sam laughed. Gabriel didn't.  
"I've been drafted, Sammy." There was a long silence. Sam dropped the plate into the soapy water with a splash.  
"Tell me you're kidding," he said, still half laughing. "You're kidding, Gabe, right?" Gabriel shook his head.  
"No. I've got the letter right here." He read it off to him-all pomp and circumstance, sounding to Sam's ears like, "Congratulations, your boyfriend has been selected to go die in some jungle somewhere." He collapsed in a kitchen chair, running his hands through his hair and realising too late that they were still coated in soap.  
"I'll be back, Sam, I will," he promised, knowing he might not be able to keep up his end of the bargain.  
"You'd better, Gabriel," Sam said, "or else you're gonna be in big trouble when I finally kick it."  


          They hardly had time to think-in a week, Gabriel was shipped off. Sam suggested moving; "We can drive to Canada," he said, "it won't take but a few hours. I hear it's nice up there. All the maple syrup you can eat, and moose everywhere." Gabriel turned him down, every time, but it didn't stop him from trying.  
"They'll just rope somebody else in," Gabriel always reminded him. "They" had become a fixture of their conversations. "Why did they do this? What do they want from us? Can't they just leave us alone?" God only knew who "they" were, of course, but putting a name to the being causing them so much pain made it all somehow more manageable.  


          They wrote back and forth, and Gabriel called whenever he could. He'd send Sam things sometimes; exotic fruit, flowers, pictures of himself and the handful of friends he made. But soon the friends started dropping out of the pictures, the calls got rare and the letters rarer, until one day in mid-June they were gone entirely. Every time someone would knock on her door, too-willing tears would spring to Sam's eyes, and one day, they fell, at the sight of a man in black with an envelope. The man apologised profusely, though none of it was going to do any good. Sam slammed the door in his face, read the letter, and tore it to shreds, burning what remained.  


And at the engravers, when Sam went to get Gabriel's headstone made, he said, "It was no accident, you know, that he was named after an angel."

**Author's Note:**

> (So I could turn this into a full-length fic, if there was a demand for such a thing...if you have any strong feelings either way, tell me in the comments. Otherwise, this is the way it will remain. I hope everyone liked it!)


End file.
